


The Big Bad Wolf || Flip Zimmerman x Reader

by goblinwench



Category: Adam Driver - Fandom, Blackkklansman, Flip Zimmerman - Fandom
Genre: 1970s, AlternateUniverse, Detectives, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Smoking, Violence, slowburn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:13:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27908029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goblinwench/pseuds/goblinwench
Summary: You are the mayor's secretary, drowning in paperwork and town meetings on the daily. Stress from your work and a recent break-up led you to a club, meeting a man who gives you the time of your life.*This fanfiction is inspired by The Wolf Among Us/Fables universe🐺 ✨**I do not own Blackkklansman or any affiliated characters
Relationships: Flip Zimmerman/Reader, Flip Zimmerman/You
Comments: 3
Kudos: 31
Collections: Whore 4 Adam Driver





	1. Whiskey

NOTE: This is a slowburn fanfiction, but there WILL be smut, don't worry! 

I took inspiration from one of my favorite video games, The Wolf Among Us. Enjoy! :-)

WARNING: MENTIONS OF ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIP (Y/N's EX)  
________________________________  
THE BIG BAD WOLF  
_____________________________  
The last straw in your most recent relationship had been the night he raised a hand to you, striking you across the cheek. 

You remembered that night vividly; the metallic taste of blood in your mouth, the tears that streamed down your face, and the smell of his cologne. 

That was when you realized that that man, that monster, was not fit to be your husband. No, you had realized it when you weren't excited when you proposed. And when you hadn't looked for a wedding dress or a venue. When you looked at your engagement ring, you only felt dreadful. 

The years you had spent together spiraled down the drain, which he had reminded you as you were breaking things off. Your heart was frozen at that point; you felt no remorse or regret as you kicked his sorry ass to the curb. You wished you had done it much, much sooner. 

It had been three months since that night, and you thankfully hadn't heard from him. It helped that you have found yourself a new apartment and changed your telephone number. 

Your work as a secretary for the Mayor of Colorado Springs distracted you from the rollercoaster of feelings that follow the end of a long-term relationship. 

On this particular summer evening, you found yourself at a local tavern, sipping a rum and coke. Work had been especially tough that day, as the mayor had practically drowned you under stacks of paperwork, from things like community complaints to proposed ordinances. 

A woman with gorgeous black curls, wearing a silky red dress, was singing into a microphone in the corner of the tavern, her melodies calming your nerves (alongside the alcohol). 

She was swaying to the beat, snapping her fingers and flashing a one million dollar smile to the crowd. Her serenading had attracted a small group of men, all entranced by her. 

You took another sip of your rum, almost feeling jealous of her. She was beautiful and deserved the attention, but it had been a while since you had quality time with a male companion. 

Even when you were with your ex, he didn't please you. That douchebag didn't know anything when it came to pleasing a woman, sexually and... in any other aspect. 

Taking yet another swig of your rum made you realize this was your night. The first appealing man you saw, you would try to charm. This plan required a bit more alcoholic influence, so you downed the rest of your glass and wiped your mouth on the back of your hand. 

You stood up confidently, surveying the bar. There were a lot more young men and women here from when you had entered an hour or so before. 

That was when you spotted him across the room. You watched as a smile crept onto this man's devilishly handsome face. He had a head of thick brown hair that reached just past his ears. His chin was sharp and lined with facial hair. You absolutely loved the way his eyes looked when he smiled. 

His broad shoulders were constricted by leather gun holsters, so a safe assumption would be that he was an off-duty officer. That excited you a bit more. 

He was standing there with two others — a shorter man with a very impressive afro and red corduroy jacket, who had his arm draped over a beautiful woman who you assumed to be his girlfriend. 

You sucked in a breath, growing a bit intimidated as you watched them socialize. You suddenly remembered that you were a confident, attractive, free-spirited young woman, and this man was a disgustingly sexy lumberjack. What was than Latin phrase? Carpe diem?

Some sort of sex goddess possessed you, as you suddenly found yourself approaching them. The man took notice of you immediately, as did his friends, who were chuckling slightly. You just then realized that he towered over as he looked you up and down. It only made you more attracted to him. 

"Flip, I think the lady is here for you," his male friend teased, nudging his taller friend with his free arm. 

You cleared your throat, trying to speak straight from your diaphragm, "Hi there... I'd love to buy you a drink."

Your voice was lower and sultrier than it usually was, and that seemed to work on him. 

Flip's cheeks matched the red of his flannel button-down, and he nodded almost immediately, biting his lip. "Oh, I think I'd like that." 

This caused his friends to chuckle yet again. The shorter man slapped him on the back as he followed you back to the bar, wishing him luck. 

The two of you sat yourselves down on stools next to each other, and you waved down the bartender. 

"I have to admit," Flip said, leaning in, speaking with a deliciously-deep voice. "Having a woman pick me up is very intriguing."

"Really?" You crooned. "A handsome man like you doesn't get picked up often?"

Flip smirked, "I can't say it happens often, no. But I sure like it."

The bartender came up to you. "What can I get ya?"

Flip ordered a whiskey, and you decided to copy him. 

"A forward woman who can handle her whiskey?" Flip wolf-whistled, causing an immense blush to flood your cheeks. "It's my lucky night."

"You haven't gotten lucky yet, handsome," you flirted back, feeling satisfied as you watched his ears perk up. 

There was a pleasant silence as you were both very obviously checking each other out. The way the skin in his cheeks folded when he smiled released thousands of butterflies in your stomach. 

"I didn't catch your name, gorgeous," his voice rumbled. 

"It's (Y/N)," you replied, leaning closer to him. 

The bartender placed the two glasses of whiskey before the two of you, but neither of you acknowledged them. 

"So, (Y/N)," Flip's voice was gravelly. "How exactly did I catch your eye?"

You chuckled, not wanting to inflate his ego too much. 

"I'm a big fan of the sexy woodsman look," you teased, reaching out and touching his forearm. He cocked an eyebrow, eyeing you eagerly. 

After about thirty more minutes of chatting back and forth about work and such, and giving each other very lustful looks, a live band had replaced the female singer from before. The band started playing Too Late to Turn Back Now by The Cornelius Brothers & Sister Rose.

"Dance with me, Flip," you said, already starting to move to the rhythm from your seat. He was a bit hesitant, but he seemed hooked on your every movement. 

"For a pretty lady like you, I'll try," he said, finally paying attention to the whiskey and downing a decent amount in one gulp. You took him by his hand, which you realized was a rather large hand compared to yours. 

You exaggerated the swaying of your hips as you made your way to the dance floor, feeling his eyes burn into your lower parts. 

You began dancing around him, and he made an attempt to move to the beat too. It was quite endearing, watching him try to dance. He was awful, but you found it cute. 

The movements quickly became sensual, his strong arms now wrapped around your waist. Your arms found their way around his neck, feeling locks of his thick hair in between your fingers. 

Never had you felt so electrified by another man, and he was just some handsome hunk you'd met at a bar... a very handsome hunk...

The frontside of your body was now pressed against his. You felt his hungry gaze peering down at you, his expression both lustful and mesmerized. You had longed for this sort of connection for what felt like an eternity. 

Flip leaned down at the same time that you stood up, your lips pressing together. The taste of whiskey and cigarette smoke immediately danced across your tastebuds, and you couldn't get enough. The kiss shifted into something more, as he held you tighter against his large frame. 

Your tongue bravely found its way into his mouth, and at this point, the two of you needed to find more privacy, and fast. Your lips separated, as both of your chests rose and fell rapidly as you attempted to catch your breath. 

"Kiss me like that again and I might have to take you home," you said boldly, and without a moment's hesitation, his lips collided into yours passionately. Once he pulled back, you both laughed warmly. 

"Let's find somewhere a bit more secluded, sweetheart," Flip instructed in a low voice, taking your hand and leading you to the hallway that led to the bathrooms. He immediately took you back into his embrace, pushing you against the wall and kissing you with more aggression now. 

His arm was bracing against the wall, his other resting on your hip. Heat had already rushed down to your core at that point, but now, you wanted him, and he most certainly wanted you. 

That was evident by the fact that he had started jerking his hips into yours, eliciting a deep moan from your throat. You had only been making out, but you felt more aroused than you had ever felt with your ex-fiancé. 

Your ex-fiancé. 

The horrible memories flooded back in flashes, ruining the moment. You felt guilty, which caused you to be sick to your stomach. You pulled away from Flip, your eyes welling up with tears. 

"Damn it," you cursed, your throat dry. "I'm sorry."

Flip's hands now rested at your waist, and he brushed a lock of your hair behind you ear. 

"For what, gorgeous? Did I do something wrong?"

"No! No, absolutely not," your cheeks warmed up. "I just... my last boyfriend, he was... not a nice man."

"Did he hit you or something?" Flip asked, sounding like he was now interrogating you. His serious tone caught you off guard. You nodded slowly, his fingers curled into fists. 

"(Y/N)," he placed two fingers under your chin so you met his eyes. "I'm a cop. I can take your statement, and hopefully send him to the electric chair."

You managed to laugh a bit, shaking your head, "No, Flip, I would rather forget. Tonight helped with that."

"Well, I'm glad," he looked slightly pleased with himself. "But if you ever change your mind, I'll help."

The kindness in his voice made you feel all sappy and sugary inside, which was not a feeling you were accustomed to.

"I think I would just like to head home now," your voice croaked. "But thank you for a lovely night."

One side of you wanted to go home, but other parts of your body were screaming NO!

While he understood, Flip did look a bit disappointed, but he didn't let you know that. "It was lovely, (Y/N). Let me at least walk you out to your car."

You nodded, and his arm wrapped itself around your shoulders, holding you close to him as you exited the bar. It had to be close to midnight now. The crickets were chirping, and the stars were strewn across the night sky. You approached your car, turning to face Flip. 

"Thank you again for tonight," you smiled slightly, pecking a kiss onto his cheek. 

Flip scoffed playfully, "You think I'm getting a beautiful woman like you get away that easily?" 

With that, he pulled you into a fiery kiss, causing every nerve ending in your body to explode. He pulled away far too soon, and you peered up at him with wide eyes. 

"That'll do, officer," you said flirtatiously, finally entering your car. "Have a good night."

"Hold your horses, pretty lady," he stopped you from closing the door, fishing in his jean pocket with his other hand. He gave you a small card, finally stepping back and waving goodbye. 

"I'll see you around, gorgeous."

You waved back, shutting the door and pulling out of the parking lot. You watched as the sexy lumberjack disappeared from your rear view mirror. Once you reached the main roadway, you let it all out. Tears erupted from your eyes, your entire body convulsing with each sob. 

You had met a man, perhaps a man good for you, and ruined a rather spicy moment. Your mind had been overtaken by painful memories of Thomas, your ex. While it was no use crying over split milk, your biggest fear was that his memory would destroy any possibility of a future relationship. 

You let out an entire string of curse words, screaming to yourself in the car. 

"FUCK YOU, TOM!" Your voice cracked. "FUCK YOU!!!!"

It gave you a brief moment of catharsis, your voice now completely gone. You were now parked in front of your apartment complex, and you looked at the card Flip had given you. In gold letters, it read: 

"FLIP ZIMMERMAN, COLORADO SPRINGS POLICE DEPARTMENT"

His work phone number was added at the bottom. You took a deep breath. 

You would be seeing this officer again soon if you had anything to say about it. You wouldn't let Tom ruin any more pieces of your life.


	2. Business and Pleasure

Note: Don't mind me, just building up that sweet, sweet tension.

My love for Flip has given me such unrealistic expectations for men. Ugh.

Also! I made a 70s Spotify playlist to listen to as I write, if you want to give it a listen while reading! I can't link it here, but my username is roky63 and it's titled "The Big Bad Wolf." Some of the songs are from The Blackkklansman soundtrack!

**WARNING: GRAPHIC DEPICTION OF DEAD BODY**

Enjoy! :-)

_______________________________

CHAPTER TWO - BUSINESS AND PLEASURE

_______________________________

Time had escaped you that night.

As you laid in your bed, you tossed and turned, feeling the exhaustion eating away at your bones.

Flip's business card sat on your nightstand. You kept it close to you, because for some odd reason, it provided a bit of comfort. Anxious thoughts had been fluttering through your mind, spreading their unwelcome wings to every nook and cranny.

Memories of Tom. Meeting Tom in college, thinking what you had would last forever. Thinking that by now, you would be married, living in suburbia with a baby on the way. You shuddered at the thought of being bound to him like that. 

Now, there were so many opportunities at your feet, waiting for you to reach out and grab them. You found that equally liberating and terrifying.

You wondered where Tom was now. It caused your stomach to churn, hatred knotting within your gut as you remembered the bruises. The screaming. The crying.

But then, Flip came into mind. The thoughts of him were lighter. Happier. You recalled his intoxicating scent of whiskey, cigarettes, and even hints of cinnamon and pine. The way his thick locks felt in between your fingers. The feeling of his hands squeezing your waist as he leaned down to kiss you. 

Flip was a handsome bachelor, so you imagined he would move on quickly. He was also a cop, absorbed into his work, just as you were. You were a bit embarrassed that you had a meltdown in front of a stranger, but the kindness he had shown you was touching. 

You were thankful that he had given you a taste of what things could be. It gave you hope.

Your heart just couldn't let go of him. He had given you his card, so maybe you'd call. Maybe you wouldn't. You had the choice! The memory of his smile, and his touch, fresh in your mind, were enough to make you feel at peace. With that, you drifted off into sleep.

_______________________________

Getting up that morning was a pain. You went through your routine at a snail's pace, trudging through your apartment like a zombie as you slipped on a navy pencil skirt and tucked in a floral blouse. 

Just before leaving, you scurried back into your bedroom, tucking Flip's card into your breast pocket. Just to have it. Just in case.

At work, you wanted to snap at everyone who approached you. The bags under your eyes seemed to weigh them down. You desperately hoped they weren't too noticeable. 

You knocked on the mayor's door, his coffee with two creams and packet of sugar in hand. Just the way he liked it.

"Come in," Mayor Rutherford said, his voice booming.

You entered, displaying a fake smile and setting his coffee down. The mayor seemed to be in a sourer mood than usual.

He took a sip of his coffee, then said, "(Y/N), the police chief will be coming by this afternoon to discuss... things. I would like you to have the conference room prepared by 3pm."

"Of course," you replied, but your curiosity got the better of you. "May I ask the purpose of the meeting?"

"We'll be discussing an ongoing investigation, and a course of action," he said in a short tone, so you knew he wouldn't fork over any more details.

You nodded, but your curiosity hadn't been sated. You stopped yourself from prying, taking notice of the mayor's lingering gaze at your chest.

His silver wedding ring was visible as he grasped his coffee cup, taking a long sip, his look making you rather vexed.

You turned to leave, shutting the door and quickly returning to your desk. Unfortunately, you were well aware of the mayor's feelings towards you. The interest obviously wasn't reciprocated, but it had only been a few sideways glances.

The mayor was toothless; you decided to endure the discomfort, realizing that in your career field, these types of men were in abundance. You were the perfect fit for this job, and you hoped that eventually, you'd be able to take his place. Classless, drooling men like the mayor were just another obstacle in your path -- you certainly weren't going to let them stop you.

You remembered that Flip's card was in your pocket, so you pulled it out gently, leaning it against the lamp that sat on the corner of your desk. The golden letters reflected the ceiling lights, making them shiny and very distracting. You didn't move it, however. It was a welcome distraction.

_____________________________________________________________

As the hours went on, you had bulldozed through a stack of community complaints. The most time-consuming one had been a novel-length complaint from an old man about the height of his neighbor's grass, and whether it was "up to code."

The most pressing work was preparing for the mayor's re-election. He was popular in Colorado Springs, having served in Vietnam and actively organizing and participating in community events. He also had the perfect nuclear family -- a beautiful wife, two children, and a dog. Mayor Rutherford was the perfect American poster boy. 

Another set of paperwork required the mayor's signature, so you had set it aside. You quickly peered at your watch, realizing it was nearly 2:45pm and you hadn't yet prepared the conference room.

What exactly did that even entail? It made you feel like a glorified personal assistant, knowing damn well that it meant making sure the men's coffee mugs were topped off and that they had access to fattening pastries.

Containing your annoyance, you prepared a tray of scones and other sweets from the breakroom, placing them in the center of the thick oak conference table. The coffee had finished brewing, so you set aside a few mugs and poured the black liquid into each of them.

As you were doing so, the door opened, the mayor leading who you assumed to be the police chief, alongside a familiar face.

The lumberjack from last night.

Your heart lodged itself in your throat as you stared at him like a doofus, accidentally spilling a bit of coffee onto your shoes. Your teeth clamped down on your bottom lip, using up an immense amount of self-control as to not screech from the burning sensation that tingled across your foot. Of course, out of all of the police officers at the Colorado Springs Police Department, it had to be Flip Zimmerman visiting the office alongside the chief. 

You donned your mask of professionalism, placing the coffee pot beside the treats and flattening out the folds of your skirt. You couldn't help but notice Flip's lips curl into a smirk as he stood beside the chief, towering over him, watching you. Today, he was wearing a light brown flannel and blue jeans. He looked as dashing as ever.

"This is my secretary, (Y/N)," the mayor chuckled heartily. "Makes the best cup of coffee in all of Colorado Springs!"

Those words, at their core, were rather condescending. You swallowed back any snarky comebacks, instead replying, "I just follow the instructions on the bag, sir."

You tacked on a friendly smile, making your way towards the door. Just as you were about to pass the frame, Flip's hand brushed against yours, the simple brush of his skin against yours making your knees almost give out.

"Nice to meet you, (Y/N)," his deep voice rumbled. He knew exactly what he was doing.

You briefly made eye contact, a strong sense of longing radiating in between the two of you. A rose color dusted your cheeks, and he flashed that handsome smirk at you. These events unfolded over the span of a few seconds, and it was unfortunate that you had to leave him to his meeting.

Sinking back into your desk chair, an enormous sigh erupted from your lungs. Even as you tried to fill out paperwork, your eyes kept looking at the conference room door as if it was a giant magnet.

This was going to be a problem. Almost having your first one-night stand was one thing, but this was now interfering with your work.

Throughout your entire life, school and work had come before romantic interests. That was something that had made Tom grow resentful of you, but this wasn't about him. This was about the Viking of a man who shoved his tongue down your throat the night before.

He wasn't even twenty feet away from you. You had to control your rapid heartbeat, or you might just expire right then and there. Just as you had observed the night before, a man had never had this effect on you. Maybe the feelings were intensified because you were still processing your break-up. It was obviously just hormonal. 

You forced yourself to compartmentalize these intrusive thoughts, using your iron focus to power through more documents.

You felt as if you had just found a good rhythm when the meeting concluded, the three men emerging into the main room.

"Ah, you've always been a comedian, Bridges," the mayor laughed with the police chief, acting as if he had just heard the funniest one-liner of his life. You were well aware of the plasticity of the mayor's personality. 

"We appreciate your cooperation, Harvey," the chief's tone was much more business-like than the mayor's. "This is obviously a serious situation, and the investigation will be handled with care."

Flip was stealthily inching towards your desk, still giving his attention to the chief and the mayor. 

"Well, thank you for stopping by, sir," the mayor said, signifying the end of the gathering. He shook both Flip and Chief Bridge's hands. The mayor then retreated back into his office.

"Oh, I left my watch in the conference room," Flip lied, playfully smacking his forehead.

"I'll wait for you in the car, numbskull," the chief grumbled, leaving the two of you alone.

"Your watch? Really?" You teased, but Flip jogged to the other room, returning with his watch. As he adjusted it around his wrist, he looked up at you, his face noticeably chipper.

"Are you suggesting I intentionally left my watch in the other room to make time to flirt with the secretary? How dare you," he moved aside a pile of papers, seating himself on the corner of your desk. A smile broke out onto your lips.

"I would never," you replied. You found yourself enjoying this banter, feeling a genuine sort of connection with a man you had only met yesterday.

"So, miss," he said, his large arms folded over one another. "Can I take you out tonight?"

Your heart dropped. You were facing a dilemma head-on. One path led to a potentially thrilling relationship, but the other led to stability with your career. You had just escaped a damaging relationship. Were you even ready? What if Flip was the same? Was his behavior all an act, simply to trick you into bed?

Sometimes you wished you weren't so guarded. Last night, you had put yourself out there, catching a handsome, eager man who was definitely interested in you. What was wrong with you?

Flip caught on to your hesitance, a slight frown twitching across his lips. He scratched his chin, standing up from your desk.

"Flip..." you scratched the back of your head. "I'm not sure if I'm ready, and I have a lot of work to do tonight."

He gave you a warm smile, pushing his dark locks out of his face. "Well, how about later this week? After all, you have my number."

He gently flicked his card that you had displayed on your desk. You were horribly embarrassed, realizing you had forgotten to hide it.

"I will definitely think about it," a shy grin spread across your face, and his cheeks folded to accommodate his smile. That damned smile. It was your Kryptonite.

Before he left, he gave you a wink, swooping out of the room.

That man... Curse him and his effect on you.

_____________________________________________________________

It was now 9pm. Roughly 5 ½ hours since Flip had left.

You had downed 4 cups of coffee, your bloodstream buzzing with caffeine. The mayor had pulled up a chair in front of your desk as the two of you brainstormed campaign tactics.

"The annual fair is next week," you said, scribbling down a note onto your calendar. "Your speech is all in order, sir."

The mayor nodded, "Yes, that's usually a hit with the crowd. Maybe I'll throw in some juggling, or sword-swallowing."

He paused, waiting for you to laugh, but you simply smiled awkwardly.

"Right, well, we're meeting with the committee tomorrow afternoon," the mayor said, patting his thighs and standing up. "I have to return to the ol' ball and chain, and I suggest you get home, too."

You stood up, retrieving your coat and purse as you followed the mayor out to the parking lot. He was chattering about how well his oldest son Peter was doing in school when you let out a blood-curdling shriek, almost falling backwards due to shock.

On the steps of town hall laid a carefully-placed body. A dead body of a girl who looked no older than twenty. She was wearing nothing but a short white dress, her auburn hair flowing down her shoulders. Blood oozed out of her neck.

"Jesus Christ," the mayor gasped, stumbling backwards. "(Y/N), call the fucking cops."

You ran back into the building, your body ejecting your lunch from earlier that day onto the tile floor. Your mind was racing as you rushed to your desk, snatching Flip's card and dialing the number. Your hands trembled as they held the phone to your ear.

"Hello?" Flip answered, and you immediately started sobbing, your entire body shaking with fear.

"Flip..." you squeaked. "There's a body. Outside of the building."

"What!?" He almost yelled into the receiver. "Who is this? What building?"

"It's (Y/N)..." you attempted to control your tears, taking deep breaths. "There's a dead girl on the front steps of town hall."

Flip was astounded for a moment, and then replied, "Stay put, (Y/N). I'll be right there."

He hung up, and the phone slipped out of your fingers, clattering to the floor. Bracing yourself against the desk, you caught your breath.

What sick human being could commit such an atrocity?


	3. Honey

NOTE: So far, this has been my favorite chapter to write. My heart was literally beating like crazy towards the end. I sincerely hope that you enjoy!!!

**WARNING: DESCRIPTION OF DEAD BODY**

______________________________________________________________________________

CHAPTER THREE - HONEY

______________________________________________________________________________

"Peter, he's my oldest, he just won the high school science fair," the mayor bragged as the two of you made your way to the exit, your footsteps echoing against the linoleum floor. "He made this amazing molecular model! The photos will be in the paper."

The mayor held open the door for you, caused the summer humidity to seep in to the building. 

That's when she came into view. The body. Laid right at your feet.

Everything had happened in a blur. A low frequency was humming through your eardrums; you felt petrified. 

Your brain was racking itself for details to give to the cops, replaying every single millisecond of that time window. There was no blood near her, other than the gash that she wore around her neck.

One thing you remember is leaning down before the girl's body, removing your coat and covering her to protect her privacy. That, and you just couldn't bear to see her.

Officers had responded to the scene almost instantly, seeing as the police station was walking distance from town hall. They began their investigation by taping off the perimeter and shooing off bystanders. There was already a forensics team on the scene, poking and prodding at the poor girl's body.

Flip had approached you, asking you several questions, but you were in complete and utter shock. All you remembered was how his police badge reflected the moonlight. The officers were setting up evidence tents, and every so often, the flash from a camera would set off.

Something stirred within you. You wanted to help with this investigation. Sitting on the bench wasn't an option.

_______________________________________________________

Flip had taken you back to the precinct for brief questioning, and the chief had done the same with the mayor. Flip had wanted to drive you to your apartment, but the chief insisted that they needed to be as thorough as possible, eliciting some sort of statement from you.

You now sat in a chair by his desk, listening to the ambient noises of the police station. The sound of thick boots clambered from the adjacent hallways. Every so often, a phone would ring, making you jolt with fear each time.

Flip and a shorter man were speaking in the room across from the one you were in. You watched them through the translucent glass, their hands waving around as they pieced together the night's events, just as you were trying to do.

They entered through the glass door, Flip kneeling before you, handing you a small styrofoam cup of water. A familiar face stood beside him — it was the friend you'd seen him with at the bar, the night you met.

"Miss, I'm Detective Ron Stallworth," he greeted you. "Do you remember anything, anything peculiar about tonight?"

You took a small sip of water, replaying your memory as if you were rewinding a movie. Your eyes were clenched shut, straining your thoughts to try to come up with something helpful.

_______________________________________________________

The victim's body was burnt into the back of your brain. In your mind, you recalled her wavy auburn hair, the short white dress she wore, and her dewy skin. She was laid there carefully, her arms by her sides and her legs together. Whoever had placed her there meant for the mayor to see.

"Shit, shit, shit," the mayor had said, his movements frantic as he tried to figure out what to do. He had looked over his shoulder every so often, looking towards the bushes as if a monster were going to emerge suddenly.

________________________________________________________

"Did you check the bushes?" You asked, peering towards Ron. Flip and Ron glanced at each other confusedly.

"The bushes?" Flip repeated. "Why the bushes?"

"The mayor kept looking at them," you replied, using every ounce of your strength to maintain a brave face. "While we were waiting for you to arrive, his behavior was very odd."

"I understand that this is difficult, but I need you to be more specific," Ron said, retrieving a notepad, scribbling down your every word. You nodded, telling the two detectives everything from that day and night leading up to finding the body. No detail was too small as you described the mayor's behavior.

_____________________________________________________________

FLIP'S POINT OF VIEW

_____________________________________________________________

Well, this certainly wasn't how he expected his night to go.

Flip had his feet propped up on his desk, flipping through the paper. He was experiencing a calm moment in the office, something he greatly appreciated due to its rarity.

His telephone suddenly interrupted his reading, much to his dismay. He folded up his paper neatly, swinging his long legs back over his desk and putting the phone to his ear.

"Hello?"

(Y/N)'s voice vibrated into his eardrum, causing his stomach to turn as she described coming across the victim. He found himself worrying for her safety, despite her not giving any indication that she was in danger.

Once he had hung up, it was all business. His leather holsters were thrown over his shoulder, his revolver tucked into its slot.

At the scene, he sought out (Y/N), who appeared completely distraught, physically unable to respond to his questions. He had done his best to console her, guiding her to a nearby bench.

"(Y/N), stay here," he instructed. "I'll be back."

He regrouped with the fellow detectives, bending down to examine the body.

"It's him, Flip," Sergeant Trapp said gravely. "It's him."

The sergeant was referencing the purpose of the earlier meeting. For the past few weeks, bodies of young girls had turned up in various locations, all of their throats slit. They had also been wearing white dresses.

It had been suspected that there was one man responsible for all of the disappearances and murders. But as more bodies showed up, it seemed like the work of an organization. The scope of the investigation was massive, unlike any other assignment Flip had ever worked on.

Due to Flip's time in the military, he wasn't typically phased by gore, but witnessing the string of murders made him want to hurl.

"What the hell?" One of the forensic scientists swore, raising their gloved hand to show off a mysterious golden substance dripping from their index finger. Ron and Flip approached the scientist, eyeing the liquid with a shared puzzled expression.

"Is that honey?" Ron asked incredulously.

"Yeah," Flip said. "That looks like honey. Where exactly did it come from?"

"It was rubbed all over her lips," the scientist replied. "While I want to say it's honey, I can't be sure until I do a lab test."

The detectives nodded, stepping away from the body to discuss this development privately.

"It has to be Honeylips," Ron whispered to his partner. "The...gentlemen's club."

"What exactly does a fucking strip club have to do with her?" Flip folded his arms. "Do you think she's a hooker?"

"That would make sense," Ron shrugged. "No disrespect."

"Hey!" Another forensics man beckoned Flip to the bushes that sat around the corner of the building. Walking over, the man held up a leaf to him. The dark green was blotched with a deep red color, and it appeared fresh.

"Shit," Flip cursed under his breath. "Make sure you bag all of that up."

_____________________________________________________________

YOUR POINT OF VIEW

_____________________________________________________________

Flip had lit a cigarette, plumes of smoke billowing out of the end. You weren't usually a smoker, but you stuck your hand out.

"Can I steal a cigarette?" You asked. "I've heard it helps with your nerves."

Flip pulled the box out of his breast pocket, flicking his wrist so you could pull one out. You put it to your lips, and Flip leaned forward, lighting it for you. The heat rushed through your mouth as you sucked in the smoke, removing it from your mouth and exhaling.

Flip was eyeing you as you sucked in the cigarette once more.

Suddenly, the mayor emerged from the chief's office, anger radiating from his body. His light hair was even messier than before, blood vessels bulging from his temples. His gaze fell onto you, his index finger pointed in your direction.

"Say nothing without a lawyer, (Y/N)," he barked, and proceeded to march out of the precinct, a plethora of swear words trailing behind him. Things about the station being a waste of tax dollars, and another jab about cops and donuts.

You and Flip exchanged a glance of bewilderment. The chief then entered the room.

"God, I didn't realize you were still here," Chief Bridges said, making you realize it was nearly one in the morning. "Flip, get her home."

"Sir, yes sir," Flip saluted, pressing his cigarette into his ashtray. You followed his lead as you made your way into the parking lot.

It was less humid now, but a blanket of clouds separated the two of you from the stars. Embers flaked off the end of your cigarette as you inhaled another drawl. Flip had led you to his red Ford pickup. He leaned against it, and you stood next to him, handing him your cigarette.

"How are you holding up?" He asked, facing you. You looked up at him.

"I'm furious," you replied, and your answer took him by surprise. "What kind of town do we have if there's no order? I won't stand for this."

Flip smiled to himself. "I like your moxie."

You shifted your weight from side to side, staring at your shoes.

"What do you think the mayor meant?" Flip asked.

"I don't know," you replied. "I'm sure the chief will tell you what they talked about. His behavior is definitely off."

Flip flicked the end of the cigarette, several more embers floating to the ground.

You still felt an immense amount of unease from the events that had happened just hours before. You wondered if the body was still there, and what would be done to her. You wondered if she had family or friends that had been looking for her. It shattered your heart into thousands of pieces.

Whoever was responsible for this, you hoped they would face the full throttle of the legal system. You would do whatever you could to make that happen.

"Flip, could you take me home?" He looked up at you, his eyes wide with an expression you couldn't decipher. "I'm still a bit frazzled."

"Of course," he replied. "But what about your car?"

"I live really close. I could either walk or take a cab in the morning."

Flip looked at you. "Don't be silly. I'll get you in the morning."

"Oh, will you now?" You asked, your ears perking up at his assumption. "What makes you think I want that?"

"Just get in the truck, (Y/N)," he commanded, opening the passenger door for you. You stepped up into the truck and sat down. He entered the driver's side, shutting the door and inserting the keys into the ignition, the engine roaring to life.

As you expected, Flip's truck was thick with the scent of cinnamon and cigarettes. Bunched up receipts were littered by your feet, and several important-looking folders were strewn across the dashboard. A Star of David on a silver chain hung over the rearview mirror.

"I didn't know you were Jewish, Flip," you commented as he pulled onto the roadway, pawing the necklace like a cat. The car's headlights illuminated the trees as he sped down the road. 

He chuckled slightly. "There's a lot you don't know about me, sweetheart. But that'll change with time."

There was a comfortable silence, until you guided him to the front of your apartment complex. He pulled up to the curb, shifting his truck into park.

"So, this is your place..."

You turned to him, but his eyes were already on you. For a few moments, all you did was take in his appearance, as if your mind was taking a snapshot. He appeared tired, but it didn't detract from his handsomeness. His dark hair was more unkept than usual, but you found that rather...appealing. 

"Flip..." you said softly, surrendering to whatever forces were telling you to lean in for a kiss.

His lips felt soft against yours. It was a gentler kiss than the last one you shared, but it made tiny bubbles of happiness course throughout your body. His large hands grasped your face, pulling you in deeper and deeper. Your hands wrapped around his shoulders, eagerly inviting him into more passion.

Flip pulled away suddenly, much to your disappointment.

"(Y/N)," he said softly, taking your hands into his. "Your hands are trembling."

"I guess it's a bit of aftershock," you replied, and he placed gentle kisses on each of your knuckles. Your mouth was agape; you couldn't get enough of this sort of affection. Whatever stone wall you had put up earlier that day was slowly coming down, much to your surprise.

"I would invite you in..." you started, but Flip interjected.

"I know," he replied cockily. "We'll get there eventually."

You smacked him on the arm playfully, opening the car door and hopping onto the sidewalk.

Before shutting the door, your hands fumbled with the doorknob, and you looked up at Flip.

"Flip?"

"Yeah?"

"Promise me you'll get the bastard who did this."

"I promise," a serious expression crossed over his face. "They'll pay for what they did."

You nodded, thanking him for the ride and shutting the door. His red truck waited there, its engine rumbling, as you made your way to the entrance. Then, and only then, did Flip drive off into the night.


	4. First Date

NOTE: I hope you're enjoying the story! I've been struggling with a bit of writer's block, but I think it has passed. 

No particular warnings for this chapter!

________________________  
CHAPTER FOUR - FIRST DATE  
________________________

The next morning, Flip had kept his promise and picked you up in his red Ford truck. 

Before running out to meet him, you had sprayed a few extra puffs of perfume onto your neck and wrists. 

"Have you had anything to eat?" Flip asked as you buckled in, one hand gripping the top of the steering wheel as he faced you. 

"A bit," you replied. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, we've got some time to kill, if you'd like to stop at a nearby diner," his broad, flannel- clad shoulders appeared a bit tense as he asked. 

A smile danced across your lips, and you nodded. "That sounds lovely."

Flip drove right past town hall. Getting a quick glance of the crime scene made your stomach churn. The yellow tape boxed the area in, and there were a few officers on the scene to prevent anyone from tampering with the evidence. 

You turned forward again. Colorado Springs' scenery greeted you with its vast mountains in the distance. It was August, so the heat was still in full swing. You were wearing a sky blue blouse with cream-colored slacks. 

"Here we are," Flip announced, pulling into a small parking lot. The diner exuded pure Americana energy, its neon sign flickering an electric blue color. 

You followed Flip's lead into the diner, seating yourselves at a booth. A waitress soon placed menus in front of the two of you, her sparkling green eyes seemingly magnetized to Flip. Something stirred deep within you, and you couldn't tell if it was anger, or perhaps a tinge of jealousy. 

She twirled a strand of her blonde hair around her index finger, her voice light and airy. 

"Can I get y'all something to drink?" She asked. 

"I'll have a coffee," you said. "With two creams."

She nodded, then facing Flip. 

"I'll have the same," he said, not paying much attention to the beautiful young woman standing before him, who was obviously showing interest in him. It oddly provided you with a bit of reassurance. 

She scurried off to prepare the coffees, and Flip collapsed his menu, peering up at you. 

You finally processed something. Why hadn't you thought about this in the car? Was this a date? 

Before you could ask Flip this very pressing question, the blonde waitress returned with the two coffees in hand. 

She eyed Flip's badge and gun holster, looking utterly starstruck. 

"I like cops," she said flirtatiously, but Flip didn't appear to pick up on it. 

"Yeah, I do too," he sipped his coffee. You eyed him suspiciously, wondering if he had recognized her true intent. Being a detective, he most likely did. 

"If you're ready to take my order, I'll have two scrambled eggs and bacon," you said, her head snapping back to you. 

"Sure," she said tersely, scribbling your order down on her tiny notepad. 

"And for you, officer?" She put a special emphasis on that last word, batting her eyelashes and biting her lip. Your grip around the ceramic coffee mug tightened. 

"I'll have the Tex-Mex omelette with sausage," he handed her the menu back. "Thanks."

Once the waitress had disappeared, you locked your eyes with Flip's, feeling a surge of confidence course through your veins. 

It had only been a handful of days, but you wanted to get to know him better. Despite the impending investigation, you found yourself wanting to be there for him. To be with him. 

Your ex's hold on you was loosened. Flip was the first man possibly ever to set your nerves on fire; to show you true passion. You weren't letting him go, not if you could help it. 

"Flip," you started, and his light brown eyes fluttered up towards you, his jowls tensing as he waited for you to continue. "Is this a date?"

Flip grinned, taking yet another sip of his coffee and placing the mug down again. "Do you want it to be?"

"Actually," you brushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "I do."

His expression closely resembled a child looking upon their gifts on Christmas morning. There was a pleasant silence until the waitress suddenly interrupted the bliss with your meals in hand. 

Apparently, the waitress was feeling that same sort of confidence. Maybe it was something in the coffee. She lingered there as the two of you started digging into your food, tucking a piece of paper under Flip's plate. You raised an eyebrow at him and he just shrugged as she waltzed away. 

Flip unfolded the slip of paper, laughing as he read the note. 

"Well, what is it?" You asked, perhaps displaying too much curiosity. 

Flip slid the paper to you. The waitress had written down her phone number, also writing "call me, handsome" under it with a heart tacked on the end. You chuckled slightly. 

"Well, are you going to call her, handsome?" You teased, emptying the second creamer into your coffee and stirring the mixture with a metal spoon. 

Flip pursed his lips, shaking his head. 

"Nah," he waved his hand dismissively. "I'm on a hot date."

Your cheeks suddenly felt rather warm. Instead of opting to be bashful, your feelings closely resembled the ones you felt the night in the bar. The night the two of you had met. 

Your hand rested itself on top of his, and the creases around his eyes appeared to soften. He eagerly accepted your gesture, taking your hand into his and gently rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand. 

This simple act was making your feelings for him skyrocket, and for the first time in your life, you were ready to succumb to the unknown. You wanted to be with Flip. 

Your plates were both cleared by now, so the waitress returned, her eyes burning into your interlocked hands as his thumb continued to move across your knuckles. 

She cleared her throat, but before saying anything, Flip handed her the note back with his free hand. Her cheeks were now a deep crimson. 

"I appreciate your forwardness and flattery, miss," Flip said politely. You didn't see him as the type to give someone the velvet hammer, but seeing as the girl looked fairly young, you understood. 

"But I'm currently on a date."

You smiled at him, but the waitress looked as she were about to burst into tears. It almost made you feel bad for her. She silently placed the check on the table and disappeared behind the counter. 

Flip let go of your hand, shimmying around in his seat to retrieve his wallet. He threw two twenty-dollar bills onto the table. 

"Over a one hundred percent tip? It's her lucky day," you mused, and he shrugged. 

"I think it more than makes up for my rejection," his deep voice replied. 

Once you were back in his truck, and he was starting it up, you took the back of his head into your hands and kissed him deeply, even nipping at his bottom lip with your teeth.

A surprised moan escaped his lips, and you pulled back. He was stunned. 

"Darling..." he blinked a few times. "What was that for?"

"I like you." You said, visibly pleased with yourself. "It's also for buying me breakfast."

"Well, I sure like you, too," he replied, starting up the engine and heading back to town hall. 

The content feeling you had been sharing was interrupted when the town hall came into view. The mayor had strung up a massive poster over the front doors, his smiling face plastered onto it with "MAYOR RUTHERFORD, 1973 RE-ELECTION" in large red letters. 

"That's...odd," you commented as he pulled into a parking space. "We weren't supposed to put up any campaign advertisements until next week."

Before you could leave, Flip grasped your forearm tightly, gazing into your eyes. His dark hair looked softer today, as if he'd really tried to comb it that morning. 

"Be careful, (Y/N)," he said, his concern seeping into the very cold depths of your heart. 

"The same goes for you, detective," you replied, planting a kiss onto his lips. You shut the door, and he drove off towards the police station. 

You suddenly wished he was still at your side. It felt as if you'd stepped into a nightmarish realm as you made your way towards a side entrance into town hall. 

The same feelings from the previous night lingered in the back of your mind. Your body tensed as you pulled open the side door, your heels clacking against the tile floor as you entered your office space.


	5. Rough

NOTE: Buckle up for this chapter, folks. 

WARNING: Smut. Heavy smut. 

Enjoy! :-)  
____________________________  
CHAPTER FIVE - ROUGH  
__________________________

Trying to assimilate back into your normal work routine proved to be rather difficult. 

The mayor's behavior was erratic. He was barking orders at everyone in his vicinity. The poor intern from the local college nearly started bawling as he unleashed his anger upon her. 

You watched him at his desk as he flipped through paperwork, his hair disheveled and his complexion a deep red. 

"Sir, your behavior is wildly inappropriate," you said sternly, folding you arms together as you stood before him. He looked up at you, an eyebrow raised. 

"That's funny," he spat. "It's almost as if a dead girl just appeared right outside. Right before my reelection. Maybe I am a little stressed, (Y/N), especially with that stupid cop boyfriend of yours breathing down my neck."

Your blood began to boil. 

"I beg your pardon, Mayor," you started, your nails digging into your palms. "I won't be spoken to like that. And the cop you're referring to has every right to be investigating you."

His mouth was agape, his aggressive stance completely deflated like a popped balloon. At this point, you didn't feel comfortable working with him. There was definitely something off about him. The only real reason you were still in this building was to collect information for Flip and the other detectives. 

"You're right, I'm sorry," he scratched the back of his head, his eyes fixated on the floor. "I support our police officers. I want this all to be figured out. If you'll excuse me, I think I'm going to go home early today."

It was only 4pm, but you didn't stop him.

The young intern sat at her desk, sniffling quietly and dabbing her lower eyelids with a tissue. You approached her, gently placing your hand on her shoulder. 

"I'm sorry he spoke to you that way," you said, and she nodded. "You can head home now."

That seemed to brighten her mood significantly as she retrieved her belongings and exited through the side door. 

This was your chance. 

You entered his office. It made shivers run down your spine as you searched his belongings, the adrenaline exciting you. You rummaged through his desk drawers and through the dresser he had in the corner. 

Beads of sweat rolled down your face as you frantically searched for something, anything, that might aid with the investigation. 

And there it was. 

Snugly tucked behind a book in the dresser was a large bronze key with a maroon ribbon tied around it. Stitched into the ribbon was the silhouette of a small black bumblebee. 

Your eyes widened. While it wasn't a smoking gun, you needed to get this to Flip immediately. 

_______________________

Your stride held purpose as your heels clacked against the police precinct floor. The key was clutched tightly in your hand, your palms digging into its grooves. 

Ron sat at his desk, wagging a pencil between his fingers as he read through paperwork. His eyes shot up to you as you approached. 

"(Y/N)? What are you doing here?" He asked, hurriedly covering up some clearly confidential paperwork. 

"I need to see Flip," you replied, holding the key even tighter within your grasp. 

Ron chuckled. "He's speaking to... somebody, right now."

"This is important!" You exclaimed, his assertiveness catching him off guard. He nodded, dragging the tip of his pencil across his lip, then using it to point towards a door across the room. 

You nodded and said a quick thank you, heading towards the room and gazing through the window on the door. 

There Flip sat in a metal chair, his legs spread wide, his forearms balancing on his thighs. 

Unfortunately, there was a woman seated before him. She had a black spiked bob, heavy makeup, and a tight red dress with matching fishnet stockings. 

That wasn't bad, in and of itself. It was the fact that Flip leaned forward, resting his palm on her knee. 

Your nerves went numb. 

Your heart skipped a few beats, but your hand had already knocked against the door. Flip had pulled back, approaching the door and opening it slightly. The girl dressed like a hooker remained in her seat, wiping away tears and smudging her mascara. 

"Flip," you said coldly. Perhaps too cold. 

He raised a confused eyebrow. "What are you doing here, (Y/N)?"

"It has to do with the investigation," you failed to meet his eyes. "Nothing else."

You handed him the key, and he examined it with a puzzled look on his face, immediately noticing the bumblebee. 

"Where did you find this?" He asked, his dark eyes narrowing in on you. 

"The mayor's office. Was that a hooker?"

Flip's eyes widened, looking at you angrily. 

"Could you be a bit more professional?" His deep voice rumbled, and you scoffed. 

"That's funny, coming from you," your arms were folded. "I don't think you're supposed to get handsy."

In one swift movement, he clutched your chin with his free hand, forcing you to look up at him. 

"(Y/N)," his tone was flat, almost icy. "I have an investigation to take care of. Thank you for finding this."

You jerked your chin out of his grasp, and he lowered his hand slowly, not breaking eye contact with you. As irritated as you were, you felt a tension building up inside of you, begging for a release. 

With that, you turned on your heels, and he returned to his questioning. Hot tears were streaming down your face as you made your way out of the building. You didn't quite understand why you were so upset. It meant nothing. You were overreacting. 

Right?

________________________

It was around 7pm now, and you'd stuffed yourself with Chinese takeout and downed a few glasses of wine. It had been a trying week, so this was the least you could do to unwind. 

The TV flashed vibrant colors across the room in your apartment, but you couldn't focus in on it. Your brain was captivated by the events that had unraveled that week. Opting to ignore any anxiety, you placed your lips directly onto the wine bottle, taking a swig. 

A sudden knock rang out from your front door. You hardly ever got visitors. Scratch that — you never got visitors. You retrieved the remote to shut off the TV. 

Your body tensed as you stood up, realizing you were wearing nothing but a T-shirt and lounge pants. Your hair was down and unfurled like a lion's mane. 

You carefully reached for the doorknob, cracking it open ajar as you looked upon the mysterious knocker. 

There Flip was, clearly disgruntled as his hands were on his hips. He wore a scowl on his face. 

"(Y/N), I need to speak with you," he said urgently, and without giving it much thought, you undid the chain and he invited himself in. You turned on the lights, squinting as you processed everything. 

There Flip Zimmerman was, standing in your kitchen. The sleeves of his signature red flannel were rolled up, and there were dirt stains blotted across his jeans. He rocked back on forth on his leather boots. 

"Flip, how exactly did you find my exact apartment? You only knew the building, and this is a pretty big building," you asked, your hands now resting at your hips. 

It took a second for him to reply, as he was shamelessly looking you up and down. Even though you had pajamas on, you felt naked before him. 

"Well," he grinned, flashing his police badge at you and then returning it to his pocket. "I have my ways."

You rolled your eyes, and he reverted back to his more stoic nature. 

"First of all, what the hell was all that about earlier?" He ran a hand through his dark locks, and you let out a deep sigh. 

"You were touching that girl!!!" You bellowed, your arms flailing for dramatic effect. He was stunned by your sudden outburst. 

"Touching that girl? (Y/N), that was the victim's best friend. I was offering comfort," he was closer to you now, towering over you. 

You shook your head, chuckling slightly. "There are other ways to offer comfort, Flip."

You had really lit a fire under him now. 

"It meant nothing," he snarled, his dark locks hanging in front of your face. 

"Are you really going to try to intimidate me right now?" You shot that question into the dark, and he only took you into his arms. You were immediately overwhelmed with his scent, the cigarette residue flooding your nostrils. 

"No," his eyes were dark with desire. "No, I'm going to take you into that bedroom, and fuck you."

The air had been sucked out of your lungs as you leaned up to kiss him, the collision of your lips both desperate and forceful. His strong arms snaked around your back. He followed your lead as you stumbled into your bedroom. 

You fell onto your bed, pulling him down with you as you aggressively undid his shirt buttons and slipped it off, revealing a white T-shirt underneath. His weight on top of you was enough to set you on fire with lust. 

He took back the reins, grasping your free breasts under your shirt and biting at your neck. 

"I'm not one to play games, (Y/N)," he growled, leaving yet another love bite at your collarbone. "When I want something, I'll get it."

You offered a whimper in response, which only encouraged him. After pulling off your top, he was immediately gravitated towards your breasts, licking his lips before flicking his tongue around your nipple. 

His calloused hands soon accompanied his tongue as they worshipped both of your breasts, the soreness and tension melting within your core. 

After a sudden jolt of desire, you jerked free of his grasp, yanking his white top over his head and throwing it into the floor. The sight of his broad chest made you drool. Your fingertips traced every marking and divot of his skin. 

You littered kisses across his collarbones and shoulders, and he shuddered from the sensation, his body pressing harder and harder into you as if you were practically one. 

His forehead rested against yours, and he closed the remaining distance by inserting his tongue into your lips, taking his sweet time as he tasted the inside of your mouth. 

"Somebody's been drinking," he said cheekily. 

You laughed, which only made a grin spread across his face. At this point, your lower region was pulsating with need, with desire. 

You propped his chest up with your hand, using the other to shimmy off your sweatpants. Your bare body was laid before him, his jaw slightly agape. 

Another laugh escaped your lips as you closed his mouth with your hand, leaning in for another kiss, which he eagerly reciprocated. 

The two of you soon got back into the rhythm, his clothed parts rocking up against your bareness. The friction made several involuntary moans reach the air, and soon thereafter, you heard his jeans and boxers thud to the floor and felt his warmth against yours. 

The kisses became deeper and deeper as you felt the tip of his cock rub against your thigh. You broke away for a moment, and one of his hands ran itself through your hair. 

"(Y/N), you're beautiful," he took a second to admire you, your cheeks feeling hotter than they already were. 

"Oh, really?" You teased, leaning up to nibble at his ear and jaw. "I'm still mad at you, lumberjack."

His laughter rumbled into your ear. 

"I'll just have to make it up to you, then."

Your arms wrapped themselves around his neck, the feeling of his hair tickling against your forearms. He grasped his member, pushing it into your entrance. It took a second for your vagina to envelop all of him. 

You both grunted in pleasure and excitement. His thrusts were urgent, desperate, as if he were trying to rearrange your insides. All you could do was take it. 

"I want you, and only you," he confessed between grunts, and you lulled your head back with pleasure. 

"I want you, Flip," you moaned, and he suckled on your exposed neck, increasing the intensity of his thrusts. "Only you."

He was pounding into you now, the only audible sounds were that of pleasure filling the room. He was savoring every moment, every thrust as he watched your reaction, your eyes sealed tight as you took in his length. 

Your hands wrapped themselves around his shoulders like they were his leather holsters, digging your nails into his back. He hissed, but didn't tell you to stop. 

"I'm close, F-Flip," you gasped, and it seemed to turn on a more animalistic trait within him as he thrusted harder and harder into your canal. 

"I want to hear you," he commanded. "I want to hear you come for me."

The tension that was built up in your core released as pleasurable waves flooded your body. 

"That's my girl," he grunted, pressing wet kisses all over your face and finishing soon thereafter. 

________________________

Throughout the many years you'd been with your ex-fiancé, he had not pleasured you in any way. You wouldn't allow his memory to haunt your present, however. 

You and Flip were snuggled together now, your naked bodies entangled together under your sheets. He was positioned higher on your pillows, holding your head against his chest and rubbing your back. 

Never had you felt the tranquility you were experiencing now. You had waited for this moment for what felt like an eternity. 

"So is that why you stopped by?" You asked softly as he squeezed your lower back, then kissing your mop of hair. 

"Yep. I can't even lie. You're irresistible, especially when you get all huffy with me." He replied shamelessly, and you chuckled, lightly slapping him on the chest. 

"Well, I did actually find a lead," he continued, your ears perking up. "That key you gave me. It reminded me of a drug case a few years ago. It goes to a storage facility."

You took a second to process the information, sitting up to face him. He tried the best he could to meet your eyes, but they kept peering down towards your chest. Men. 

"That's incredible, Flip," you praised him, cupping his cheek with your hand, which he placed a gentle kiss on. "We should go now!"

He smirked. "I was just about to ask you. It's only fair, seeing as you found the key."

"Right. This is all just business," you teased, but his expression didn't seem to find it funny. 

"Come here," he ordered, pulling you in for yet another kiss. Your body felt a pleasant warmth radiate within it as you embraced this hunk of a man, your hands running through his damp locks. 

"Let's go catch the guys that did this."  
________________________


	6. Partners in Crime

NOTE: I made a minor error — Black Kkklansman was set in 1979, so I made that slight change! This story takes place between 1979-1980. It really doesn't affect much at all, other than minor references. 

*(Y/N) (L/N) = Your first name + last name

WARNING: Violence  
____________________________  
CHAPTER SIX - PARTNERS  
FLIP'S POINT OF VIEW  
____________________________

The cigarette residue was beginning to dry out Flip's mouth. It was a way to cope with the onset of stress — nicotine gives you a slight buzz, but also makes you more alert. 

He realized that this case had a much larger scope than he anticipated. It wasn't just one serial killer — the killings were done by an organization to rile up the citizens of Colorado Springs, or so Flip thought. They wanted something, and Flip spent many nights trying to figure out exactly what it was. And who they were.

His boots squelched against the grass as you both approached the storage space. It was a very run-down lot, with ivies and shrubs overwhelming the rows of storage units. There was a small light on in the front building, which the two of you assumed to contain the front desk. 

In the past, Flip's focus had been entirely on the job. He had casual flings, nothing serious. This investigation was sapping him of all energy, but he still found himself wanting to spend his free time with you, which was dwindling as him and Ron collected more and more evidence. 

He craved you, ever since he held you in his arms as you cried over your ex-fiancé. 

You were a dilemma to him. A beautiful, confusing dilemma. Never had he been so bewitched by a woman like he was with you. He greatly admired your resourcefulness and compassion, as well as your spunk, which was on full display the night you met. 

He was ready to go all in. 

____________________________  
YOUR POINT OF VIEW   
____________________________

You found sleuthing around with Flip to be exciting. It was a welcome change from the incessant amount of paperwork and other responsibilities, as well as your lonely nights at home. Your heart was beating slightly faster than normal as you stood beside him. 

Minutes before, you had arrived at Donaldson's Storage, a unit that was stationed right off the highway. 

A balding man sat at his desk in the front office of the storage facility lot. His pudgy face had sweat dabbed all over. 

"Sir, I'm Detective Zimmerman with the Colorado Springs Police Department," Flip said, leaning against the counter and flashing the man his golden badge. "I have this key here, and I need to know which of these doors it opens."

The man's demeanor quickly shifted into fear as he snatched the key from Flip. For a few seconds he examined it, tracing his fingers over the bumblebee insignia. He was visibly shaking, taking in a large gulp before replying. 

"What's the password?" The man asked, his beady eyes darting between you and Flip. You exchanged a confused look, and Flip turned back to the clerk. 

"I don't have a password," Flip's words cut into the air, as his patience was beginning to run out. "This is official police business, and you have to comply."

"I-I'll be killed, you don't understand," the man pleaded. "I want to help, but I can't."

"Listen here," Flip growled. "You need to bring us there, you —"

"We can offer protection," your lighter tone interjected, and the two men looked at you. "No one will hurt you, so long as you help us. You have my word."

Flip was looking at you, but you didn't meet his eye. Your diplomacy was needed in this delicate situation. 

"What?" Flip whispered to you through gritted teeth, his figure seeming larger than normal. You opted to ignore him. 

"Are you a detective, miss?" The man asked you innocently, his thick-wired glasses reflecting the glow of his desk lamp. 

"No, I work for Mayor Rutherford, but my friend here will make sure you're protected," you reassured him. "Right?"

"Right," Flip replied, tapping his fingers against the counter with one hand and rearranging his thick hair with the other. "Could you please lead us there now?"

The clerk hesitated, then finally shifted out of his seat, gesturing his hands towards the door. "Right this way."

____________________________

The man had unlocked the metal door, rolling it up to reveal a neatly-kept room. There were a few cardboard boxes in the corner and a desk that had a few papers littered about. The moon provided enough light to search thoroughly. 

"Thank you," you told the clerk, but he was long gone by that point. His behavior made you and Flip nervous — who exactly were you dealing with here? Was the clerk involved? 

You both immediately went to work, putting on plastic gloves and rummaging through the boxes. There were random books tucked in. 

On the wall was a map of Colorado Springs, with red dots leading from town hall, the police station, Honeylips Gentleman's Club, a warehouse, and a residence. An address was scribbled over it: 

144 Parkman Boulevard... you immediately recognized that as Mayor Rutherford's home, as you had attended holiday parties and delivered his laundry there. 

"Flip!" You gasped, clutching his muscular bicep and dragging him in front of the map. He furrowed his eyebrows together. 

"Flip, this address is the mayor's house."

"Shit," Flip said, pursing his lips together. "The mayor is really in some hot water."

He peered down at you, his gaze causing your stomach to turn. There was something about his serious nature as he worked that made him a lot more sexy. Had things not been so pressing right now, you'd want him to take you right on that desk. 

His eyes were dark, appearing to mirror your thoughts, but he had to stifle them. You'd had a taste of his sexual side, and now, you couldn't get enough. 

"Careful, (Y/N)," his voice was low as he craned his neck over you, backing you into the wall. A shudder escaped your body. His gloved hand clutched your hip as he placed a kiss onto your neck, causing chills to dance down your spine. "You know what they say about business and pleasure."

"I would never interfere with your investigation, Detective," you cooed, your fingers twiddling with his shirt buttons. 

Having to pull away from each other felt like ripping apart two magnets, but you found comfort in being in such close proximity to one another as you worked.

"Alright, Nancy Drew," he teased, sifting through a stack of papers. "Let's get to work."

____________________________

It hadn't even been thirty minutes of searching before you both heard voices in the distance. Male voices — and they were approaching fast. 

Your eyes snapped to Flip, and he immediately hid you behind him, his long arms outstretched before you. 

"Stay quiet, (Y/N)," he instructed. "Hopefully they're just passing by."

"Hopefully," you whispered, your body leaning against his broad back. While you were starting to get nervous, his intoxicating scent helped to calm you down a bit. 

The voices were closing in. Were there two men? Three? You thanked God that Flip was armed. This wasn't going to end well. Not unless you treated every action like you were moving a piece on a chess board. 

Two men. 

Two men rounded the corner. Flip swiftly pulled out his weapon, aiming it directly at the duo. 

"Just what do you think you're doing here? When fat Benny said a cop was here, I thought he was yanking our chains," the man on the left said, his beaten-up face curling into a smirk. 

Benny was the desk clerk. He must've called these two folks in. That bastard. 

"Put that down if you know what's good for you," the man to the right growled. 

"Back the fuck up," Flip yelled, stepping forward. The men stepped back, pulling out their own guns in response. 

When Flip moved forward, it revealed you. You were now exposed to these two hyenas, their animalistic gazes drawn to you. 

"Well, what have we here?" One of them chuckled, wiping sweat from his brow. "Making a woman do the dirty work."

His crony snickered, and he continued, "If you want her to see another day, put that fucking gun down."

Flip's aggressive stance didn't waver, but he slowly placed the gun down, realizing there were only so many outcomes in this scenario. 

This was suddenly becoming very real to you. It wasn't cute anymore, it wasn't just a discussion. It was now life or death. You'd gone right into the hornet's nest with a massive baseball bat. 

Flip kicked the gun over to them. 

"Good piggy," one man hissed, and Flip huffed. 

"Allow her to leave," Flip asserted, grasping your forearm from behind him. "Let her go. She's not a part of this."

"You sure about that, (Y/N) (L/N)?" 

Your heart stopped. How did they know your name? Why were you being dragged into this? What exactly had the mayor done?

Before you could even think any further, one of the men pressed the gun barrel into Flip's chest, the other man pulling you into his grasp and resting the gun against your temple. 

"Hurt her, and you'll fucking regret it," Flip's voice became hoarse. You witnessed as his strong demeanor began to fade into desperation. 

You struggled in your captor's thick arms. 

"Let go of me!" You yelled, flailing your legs around. All they did was laugh at your audacity. 

"We've got a feisty one here, Chuck," he said, only pressing the gun harder against your head. 

"The boss will sure like her," the other said. 

Flip's eyes were interlocked with yours, his lips twitching as Chuck tightened his hold around you. You could feel your cheeks light aflame as Chuck leaned down, sniffing you like a dog. 

"Alright, so here's what's gonna happen," Chuck said. "Both of you are coming with us to the boss, and he'll decide if you live...." he jolted the gun into Flip's chest. "...or not."

You often hear about the fight, flight, or freeze response from others who have gone through traumatic experiences. Your mind felt clouded, and everything was moving in slow motion as Chuck pushed you forward and out the door. 

When your ex-fiancé had struck you, you had fled. Of those three options, you had decided to flee. Now, you wanted to fight. 

The cold steel barrel was still trained against your temple as Chuck walked you forward. It was now or never. 

You unhinged your jaw, clamping down your teeth into Chuck's forearm with as much force as you could muster, causing his gun to slip from his hands and you to slip out of his grasp. The salty, unpleasant taste of flesh and blood seeped into your mouth. 

"You bitch!" He cried. 

Flip took this opportunity to disarm his captor, using his hand-to-hand combat skills to take their weapon and aim it right between the two men. 

"You're both coming down to the station with me," Flip growled. "Get the fuck up and follow me." 

You stood beside Flip, walking behind the two henchmen as you walked back to the parking lot. Their hands were in the air as they continued forward. 

"Are you alright?" Flip whispered to you, his eyes still focused in front of him. "That was pretty damn clever of you."

His praise brought warmth to the tips of your ears, but you only displayed a slight grin. 

"I think we make a pretty good team," you replied, and he seemed pretty content to hear those words, parroting your expression. 

Chuck and the other shit-for-brains staggered before you, muttering swear words and various derogatory phrases about Flip's religion. 

"Shut the fuck up," Flip said, and they thankfully fell silent. 

You had now reached his red Chevy pickup, which wasn't the ideal mode of transportation for two criminals. 

"I have a radio in there, (Y/N)," Flip said to you, nodding his head towards the front seat. "Go ahead and call it in. We'll wait here for backup."

You obeyed his command, shimmying into the front seat and clutching his radio. 

"This is (Y/N) (L/N), and I'm here with Detective Zimmerman," you said. "We're at Donaldson's Storage, and we need backup. We have two suspects in custody."

After a few seconds, Ron's staticky voice came in. 

"(Y/N)? Why isn't Flip using the radio? Over."

"He's occupied with the suspects," you replied. "Over."

"We'll be there shortly," Ron said, the excitement growing in his voice. "Over."

You shut the car door, walking back to Flip. 

"Thank you," Flip said. "Now I've got to handcuff these bastards. I only have one metal set, so I'll have to use rope for the other."

The suspects were sitting down on the gravel lot. Flip pointed to Chuck, telling him to stand up and approach him. 

"C'mere, shithead," Flip said, whipping out the handcuffs and locking them around his wrists. 

"You know, maybe I wouldn't have done this if you'd been more polite," Chuck snarled. 

With his hands still bound behind him, Chuck kicked Flip's knee from behind, causing Flip to stumble forward. Chuck's accomplice lunged forward, pulling out a knife and sinking it into Flip's side. 

Flip cried out in agony, causing your heart to lurch into your throat. 

"Flip!!" You screamed, sinking down to your knees beside him. 

"Run!" They both yelled, and they stumbled off into the woods. 

You were usually a level-headed person, but you hoped a wild animal would shred those two to pieces. 

"Fuck!" Flip hissed. The knife was up to the hilt, and you prayed it was a pocket knife. You cursed yourself for not having more medical knowledge. 

You needed to do something, and fast. 

"Flip, it's going to be okay," your hands began to tremble as you watched his light brown button down soak with blood. 

The radio. 

"Stay right here," you said, your voice shaky. 

You pushed yourself up, dashing to his truck and throwing open the door. 

"Ron, hurry!" Tears were streaming down your cheeks. "Flip's been stabbed! We need medical assistance! The suspects fled!"

The few seconds before he radioed back felt like an eternity. "Sit tight, (Y/N). We'll be there soon."

Thank God. 

You went back to Flip's side, clutching his head in your lap, caressing his face and stroking his thick locks. His breathing was labored, his broad chest rising and falling irregularly. His eyes fluttered shut. 

"No, no, no," you rasped. "Stay with me, Flip."

"I'm not going anywhere," he replied softly, his eyelids opening to reveal his beautiful brown orbs. "You're taking good care of me, (Y/N)."

He reached up his large hand, wincing in pain as he took your smaller hand into his. 

Blue and red lights began to flash against the tree as three police cars pulled up. 

You placed a gentle kiss onto Flip's damp forehead, saying, "Everything's going to be alright."


	7. Handmade Remedy

WARNING: Description of wound, mentions of previous violence, smut :-)  
____________________________  
CHAPTER SEVEN-   
HANDMADE REMEDY  
____________________________

You couldn't recall the last time you'd been in a hospital. It had to have been years ago, while you were still with Tom and he had a stomach infection. 

Here you were in the waiting room of the Colorado Springs Medical Center as Flip's wound was sewn up. You were trying your best not to become a nervous wreck. 

Ron, along with Chief Bridges, were sitting in chairs across from you, but they weren't bothering you. You knew that soon, you and Flip would be faced with endless questioning about the night's events.

Your elbows rested on your knees as they trembled. Where had it all gone wrong? Had you and Flip gone in way over your heads? 

You could feel your insides churn as your mind flittered through the events of the last few hours. What began as a lovely night with Flip soon became a nightmare. The sound of his yelp of pain replaying in your head made your face appear a palish green. 

He would be okay. The kind doctor had reassured you that the knife had skirted past any vital organs, and that while he would be out of commission for a while, he would make a full recovery. He had been placed under local anesthesia to remove the blade and receive stitches. 

You felt insanely lucky. Rage also ached away at your bones as you remembered how Ron had told you that the suspects got away, despite a handful of beat cops surveying the woods. Your faith in the Colorado Springs Police Department had begun to waver.

A wave of exhaustion swept over your body, but you would sit here all night if you had to. It had been at least 3 or 4 hours since Flip had been transported to the emergency room. Never had you felt this much fear for another human soul. 

"Miss (Y/N)?" A nurse wearing light pink scrubs entered the waiting room, clutching a clipboard to her chest. "Phillip is ready to see you now. He's recovering nicely."

You shot straight up from your chair, flattening out the folds of your blouse. "Oh, thank God."

Ron and the Chief both gave you reassuring nods as you followed the nurse to Flip's room. As you made the journey down the hallway, the nurse asked, 

"Are you his wife? Does he have any family? For insurance purposes."

"I'm... not his wife. You'll have to speak to him about insurance," you replied, your heart stinging. The nurse nodded, scribbling away at her clipboard. 

The nurse stopped at his room, and your nerves began to dance around as you entered. 

There he was on the bed, shirtless. You could've melted right there onto the floor as you witnessed him in his beaten-up state, with bloodied bandages wrapped around his torso and shoulder, his dark hair strewn across the pillow. 

The arm on the side of his wound had an IV stuck in it. Seeing him like this made your heart drop and swell simultaneously. 

"Well, hello there, handsome," you crooned, approaching your lover and pressing a light kiss onto his forehead. "How are you feeling?"

He smiled up at you. "Better now, sweetheart."

The nurse left the two of you alone, and you gently sat yourself beside him, absentmindedly stroking his hair. You mentally thanked the nurse for her courtesy. 

"That was a close one, Flip," you sighed, worry laced in your tone. He shifted slightly to get a better look at you, causing him to wince. 

"I just feel so stupid, (Y/N)," Flip admitted. It was a rare thing for Flip to convey his feelings, so you were listening intently to his each and every word. "You could've been hurt, or worse. I had the two of them cornered, but I still managed to fuck it all up. God damn it. Never again."

"Hey..." you whispered, your reassuring tone warming his skin. "Try not to worry too much right now. We're going to get these guys, Flip. They will pay for what they've done."

Flip was quiet, processing your words as you continued to fiddle with his hair. 

"Do you want some food? Or water?" You asked. Your concern was touching to him, though he didn't say that. You could just tell by his expression. 

Flip shook his head, his lips bright with a smile. "You're all I need right now, (Y/N)."

A sudden thought crossed your mind. A very devious, very inappropriate thought. You were in a hospital bed, for crying out loud, and Flip was wounded. It wasn't the time or place for sexy business. 

However...

"Flip..." your voice was low and seductive, causing Flip's brown eyes to widen. "I can help... relieve some of your stress, if you want."

He raised an eyebrow, eyeing you eagerly. "Is that so? Right here in this hospital room?"

Without another word, you stepped up from the bed, sauntering to the door and twisting the lock. As you turned around, you peeled off your top, throwing it in Flip's direction and kicked off your high heels. 

His wolf-whistle rang out into the air, and you were eating up all of his attention. You craved his hungry gaze, the feel of his rough skin, his sexual touch...

"Are you enjoying the view?" You asked rhetorically, knowing damn well he was just about drooling at the sight of you. 

"Bring your pretty little self over here now," Flip commanded. His eagerness for you was rather titillating. 

You were now unbuttoning your slacks, slipping them off and leaving yourself in your bra and panties. He was no longer just hungry for you; he was now ravenous. 

Being in touch with your sexuality made you feel good. It was exciting, and absolutely liberating. You were now straddling Flip, being extra careful not to come into contact with his wound. Your thighs hugged his hips as you began slightly rocking forward, feeling his erection grow under the thin blanket. 

"Oh, baby," Flip said breathlessly, pulling you into a kiss. "I want to be inside of your naughty self."

"I don't think so," you denied him that pleasure, instead leaning your half-naked body against him, nibbling at his earlobe and travelling downwards. "I'm going to take my time with you, Phillip."

He let out a slight moan as you left love bites across his skin, which only continued to fuel up your libido. 

"If we weren't here, oh, the things I'd do to you..." Flip growled as you continued to break into his skin. 

"Like what?" You asked, sounding like a saucy little minx. 

"I would fuck you right over your kitchen table after sucking you dry," he words reverberated against his gritted teeth. 

"Is that all?" You teased, beginning to trace your fingers against his broad, bare chest. 

"Fuck, (Y/N), I need you," he begged. After his plea, you folded back the sheets, revealing his fully-erect cock. 

You smirked to yourself, knowing that your simple touch was enough to make him rock-hard. Oh, the sinful thoughts he must be having...they paled in comparison to yours. 

Flip used his hand to pull you into a deep kiss, biting at your bottom lip with a slight aggression. You briefly separated from the kiss, inserting your pointer and middle fingers into your mouth to wet them, then traveling south and gently circling them around the bell-end of his cock. 

Flip immediately shuddered, cringing in slight pain as he jolted with excitement. He looked so handsome as his head sank into his pillow as the pleasure began to build up inside him. Being able to watch him like this caused your panties to dampen a bit, and as much as you wanted to ride him, this was about him — you didn't want his sutures to pop out. 

"Careful, (Y/N)," he said, pulling you into another kiss. As your tongues swirled together, you wrapped your hand around his shaft, slowly stroking up and down.

He moaned into your lips as your hand moved up, your fingers applying pressure to his tip. 

"You have a lot of energy for someone who's just been stabbed," you joked as he gnawed directly below your jawline. 

"You just bring it out of me," his words were rough against the soft skin of your neck. 

Your hand movements became faster. He was close to climax, as was evident by his labored breathing and the slight bucking of his hips. 

You pressed a wet kiss onto his Greek god-esque nose, stroking harder and harder as he finally reached orgasm. He grunted with immense pleasure, his seed spurting from his tip. 

"Are... are there any paper towels?" Flip panted, his eyes searching the room. You simply shook your head in response, leaning down and lapping up all of his cum. 

He was in complete and utter awe of you. You licked your lips after swallowing, sitting back up and nestling yourself under his arm as his mouth planted itself against your temple. You carefully tucked him back under his blanket. 

"I should get dressed," you sighed, sliding out of bed and pulling your pants back around your waist. His hand rested against your lower back as you bent over to retrieve your shirt. 

As you pulled it over your head, footsteps began to echo from the hallway. You quickly slipped it on, stepping into your shoes and sitting yourself down in the chair propped beside the bed. 

As you were touching up your hair, the doctor entered. Flip let out a chuckle as he watched you try to regain your composure. 

If the doctor noticed that any funny business had occurred moments before he arrived, he didn't make that known. Thankfully. 

Well, Flip had hickeys all over his neck and chest like he had chicken pox. Shit. 

"Well, Phillip, you've been a real trooper," the doctor smiled, reading over Flip's charts. His eyes looked up to the screen that displayed his heart rate and blood pressure. 

"Your vitals all look good, too. For the next week and a half, your wife here is going to have to make sure your wound stays clean and that you apply new bandages each day. Come back immediately if you notice any signs of infection. I want to see you in about 10 days for a follow-up, and we can get those stitches out if all is well."

Flip nodded. "Thanks, doc. Does that mean I can leave?" 

"You're free to go, Phillip. Take it easy."

Wife. The doctor had said wife. And Flip hadn't corrected the man. This had to mean that Flip was keen on the idea, right? At the very least, the word didn't cause him to be overwrought with disgust. But... Flip hadn't even corrected the doctor about his nickname. Did he just not care? 

It was far too early to even be thinking about these things. You just felt content in the moment, especially since Flip was safe and on the road to recovery. 

Ron and Chief Bridges soon entered the room. The Chief had a very stern look scribbled across his face, which was juxtaposed by Ron's genuine concern for his partner. 

"Good to see you back in one piece," the Chief said, and Flip nodded. 

"Can't get rid of me that easily."

Ron patted Flip's shoulder. "I'm glad you're okay, man."

There was a brief pause, before the Chief continued, "(Y/N), I'm gonna need you to step out so we can discuss things."

Was he joking? It's almost as if you weren't there for everything. Flip was obviously thinking the same thing as his hand grasped yours. 

"She can stay," Flip asserted himself. "She was there with me tonight. I want her here."

The Chief scoffed. "I didn't want to have to do this in front of her, but she shouldn't even be here in the first place. The fact that you continued your investigation without consulting me AND while bringing a CIVILIAN along is absolutely inappropriate."

"Chief, I never wanted to be a part of this," you piped up, and the three men looked at you. "This has all been an absolutely shitshow. But I'll be damned if I just sit on the sidelines. I'm not leaving Flip's side, and I'll do whatever I can to aid this investigation. My life is now on the line, too."

Flip beamed up at you, squeezing your hand in adoration. 

"What's she mean?" Ron asked, and Flip sighed. 

"One of the suspects knew who she was. She must be a target."

The Chief pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out an exaggerated sigh. "I can't believe this. No, I'm putting my foot down. You are to stay out of this, (Y/N). I mean it."

Your jaw dropped, and you looked at Flip, looking for some sort of argument from him. 

"(Y/N), I agree with him," Flip said softly, squeezing your hand yet again. "I don't want you in harm's way."

Seeing as you were clearly outnumbered, you backed down. 

"I don't even think this relationship between the two of you is appropriate," the Chief added. Now, Flip was mad. 

"That's none of your business, Chief," Flip snapped, leaning forward in bed and irritating his wound. You gently pushed him back against the bed with your hands. "I understand not letting her tag along anymore, but anything other than that is between her and I."

The Chief huffed, but made no further comment. 

"We should head out now," Ron interjected, ushering for the two of them to leave. The Chief sighed. 

"We'll be talking tomorrow, Flip."

After a few more seconds, the two of you were alone again. 

Flip's mood had completely changed from earlier. He was grumpier now, like a storm cloud had formed over his head. You cursed Chief Bridges' and his undoing of your stress relief. 

"Let's get you home, Flip," you said, pressing the button on the hospital remote for the nurse's assistance. Flip grunted in response, clearly deep in thought.

____________________________

One of the officers who responded to the scene had driven Flip's pickup to the hospital, so you were able to drive the two of you back to your apartment. Flip was half-asleep as he laid across the backseats, mumbling about random thoughts that entered his mind. 

Flip leaned against your body slightly as you walked back into your apartment. Without a second's hesitation, you tucked Flip into your bed. He faded into a deep slumber after just five minutes of being under the covers. Your clock read almost 3:00am now, and you were also feeling the exhaustion overcome your body. 

You crept into bed, slipping under the sheets beside him and gently pressing your body against Flip's side. A few muttered words escaped his lips, but you couldn't make them out. 

"Goodnight, Flip," you whispered, kissing his cheek. 

"Hrmmmm mmmmm," he replied. 

Just before you slipped into unconsciousness, your body suddenly jolted with fear as you remembered the evil eyes of Chuck, and the feeling of his hot breath against the back of your neck. 

"Flip?!" You cried out, sitting up in your bed. Flip woke up suddenly, his eyes wide with worry as he instinctively pulled you into his embrace. 

"(Y/N)?? What is it???" He asked. 

"I'm really frightened," you admitted, and he carefully laid your head onto his chest, combing through your hair with his fingers. "You could've died, or something else could've happened. These thugs are going to keep hurting people."

"You said it yourself, sweetheart," Flip twirled a lock of your hair around his index finger. "We're going to catch the guys that did this. Don't forget that. It's too soon to give up."

You were quiet, up until Flip placed two fingers under your chin, forcing you to look up at him. 

"Am I right?" He asked. It sounded like he was looking for reassurance, too. 

"Yes, you're damn right," you replied, and a warm smile spread across his lips like butter on toast. 

"That's my girl."


	8. Trouble in Paradise

NOTE: This chapter is a bit longer than usual. While reading, things will get a bit tense, but there will never be a sexual violence from the villain/evil organization in my writing. 

WARNING: Violence  
____________________________  
CHAPTER EIGHT -  
TROUBLE IN PARADISE  
____________________________

Flip doesn't call. 

He had stayed with you for a few days before returning to his own home. The few days he was there were full of complete and utter bliss, despite the lack of sex since he was still recovering. 

The bond you shared seemed to have solidified rapidly, so you were sad to find out he wanted to return to his own house before he went back to work. You understood, of course. 

But he promised to call! After you dropped him off, he had kissed you goodbye, reassuring you that he'd be in contact with you by the next day. Everything felt alright when you saw his outstretched dimples when he smiled. That next day would be when he got his stitches out. 

Was he really the type of guy to leave you hanging? After the days you spent together in your apartment, had he grown tired of your company? What were you supposed to think? 

Your excessive worrying does nothing. Your telephone doesn't ring, even when you fixate your eyes onto it for several minutes. It. Does. Not. Ring. 

It doesn't ring for the next few days after that. Flip had to have gotten his stitches out now and been back to work, if all had gone well. 

As you sat at your desk at town hall, you imagined that brawny dark-haired lumberjack strolling on in, smoothing over this whole misunderstanding. That doesn't happen. The mayor isn't even in on that particular afternoon, which was odd. 

After everything that's happened, how could you support Mayor Rutherford's re-election? Honestly, you couldn't — it was all about keeping an eye on him, and getting a paycheck. You had to put bacon on the table somehow. With your position came a small amount of authority and an opportunity for eventual advancement. 

Flip was obviously readjusting to his life at home and getting his stitches out today. Did he expect you to be there with him without being asked? Had you messed things up irreversibly? 

You'd have to visit him at work that afternoon after you finished up some paperwork. He would be touched by your initiative and have an explanation prepared. Right. That's what you'd do. 

Sigh.  
_______________________________

Your car was now idle in the police station parking lot. For some inconceivable reason, you were nervous. Very nervous. You may have been very wrong about Flip and his desires regarding your relationship. At the very least, you wanted some sort of explanation. Your heart sank at the notion that this may have been his way of breaking up with you, and you were just too stupid to see it. Flip wasn't that type of guy. He couldn't. He wouldn't. 

You mustered up a bit of courage, turning off your car and heading into the station. Your gait held purpose as your heels pounded against the tile floor. The familiar sound of Flip's deep voice rang out from the Intelligence Unit office. 

You stood in the doorway as he addressed his fellow officers. He had a very commanding way about him — his baritone voice, his intimidating height, his open legs as his back leaned against his desk. If you weren't so anxious at that moment, you may have drooled. 

Flip's throat muscles visibly tightened as he saw you. There was a hint of sorrow in his light brown eyes as he continued talking. 

"We now have an idea of the guys we're dealing with," Flip said. "I want to find the guys that knifed me and go from there. I don't want to see another poor girl wind up somewhere. That's all I had to say."

The men dispersed, returning to their desks and picking up the telephones that had been screeching at them. 

Flip approached you, grasping your wrist and leading you out into the hallway. 

"Hey—!" You began, but he cut you off. 

"(Y/N), I'm sorry," he said. You could sense that he was genuine, but it wasn't enough. 

"I promised to call, and I didn't. I just can't do...this."

Your chest suddenly went cold, and your hands felt clammier than before. "You can't do...this?"

"There was some merit to what Chief Bridges said in the hospital. Your life was endangered that night, because of me, and they could've done much worse than they did. If the mayor is a target, there's a high likelihood that you are, too. I've posted a cop to your neighborhood to keep a watch out every night. I'd do it myself, but I'm needed here—"

"Stop," your voice was hoarse. "Just stop. You spent days at my house as I took care of you, and you're making this decision now? You left me worried sick for over a week. I thought we were both in this. You told me you wanted me, only me—"

"(Y/N), I do want you!" He declared, perhaps louder than he intended as he gripped your shoulders. 

He looked around, making sure no one was watching and lowered his voice. "I want to be with you. I think about you constantly. But I can’t see you while this investigation is going on. If you got hurt, or got killed, I—"

You supposed there was a bit of logic to his words, but logic be damned. You had given him your heart and you weren't prepared to have it shattered like this. 

Failing to meet his eyes, you bit your lip, stifling any cries. You were an adult woman, for God's sake. He brushed a lock of your hair behind your ear, trying to ease the tension, but it was all too painful. Your chest clenched as you took a deep breath. 

"I just don't understand what's changed now that wasn't already known when we first got together," you said. 

He moved his lips to reply, but you held your hand up to stop him. "What about when you take on another dangerous investigation? Are you saying we can't be together at all because of your job?"

"I... don't know," his eyes fell to the ground. "I've had a lot of time to think about everything since I was attacked. My focus needs to be on this investigation, and I just want you to be safe. That's what matters to me."

Another hefty sigh exited through your nostrils. The tears couldn't possibly be held back now. "I want you to be safe, too, Flip." 

He used his thumb to wipe away your tears. His touch sent electricity through your body, and without thinking, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in close. He returned your embrace, clutching the back of your head against his chest with his hand. 

"I don't expect you to wait for me, but I would be honored if you did," he whispered into your neck. "If I have my way, I'll see you again." 

You separated yourself from his embrace, sniffling like a child. 

"Take care of yourself, Flip," you muttered weakly, turning to leave before he could respond. 

____________________________

Everything fell silent. As you walked to your car, none of the sounds were being processed by your eardrums. The internal pain you felt was indescribable, and suddenly, you found yourself back in your apartment. 

Men had broken your heart before. You had experienced the type of heartbreak where you spent a few days helplessly holed up in bed with a tub of ice cream. But this felt different. No amount of ice cream could fix this. 

Your relationship with Flip hadn't even survived a month. Within that month he had given you hope — perhaps your mother's dreams of seeing you in her wedding dress weren't completely out the window. But now... 

Collapsing onto your bed, you let out a deep sigh as you felt the soft sheets around you with your palms. Just over a week before, Flip had been cuddled up with you here, whispering sweet nothings and playing with your hair. The attention he gave to you had been sickeningly sugary, especially since he had been experiencing a great deal of pain. 

Was Flip's decision selfless? Was it just a decision you were too weak or stupid to make? A man had held a gun to your head. The fear that had permeated your body that night was unlike anything you'd ever felt. But the most fear you had felt was when Flip was crumpled up on the ground, wheezing in pain. 

Your body was suddenly racked with sobs. You hoped Flip was telling the truth about just wanting you to be safe. The alternatives were that he was sick of you, or that he had found another woman, but you couldn't bring yourself to think about that. That couldn't be the case. No way. 

The mixture of anger and sadness seemed to sedate you as you drifted off into sleep. 

____________________________

This pain wasn't new or foreign to you; it wasn't your first rodeo. Over the course of the next two weeks, you did your best to overcome the waves of grief that you felt. 

One thought couldn't escape your mind. Where exactly was this Honeylips Gentlemen's Club that had come up during the investigation? It had been marked on the map in the storage box, along with the mayor's address. 

Perhaps you were naive. Perhaps you were becoming reckless. But after seeing the dead body of a young girl, corruption infiltrate the local government, AND the man you love get attacked, it was time to do something. 

Shit. Love. L-o-v-e. You loved Flip.

This sudden realization wasn't helpful at the moment. You shoved it into the vast depths of your heart as you gazed at your reflection in the mirror. Here you were, wearing the type of clothes you'd been expected to wear since forever. A plain blouse, plain slacks or skirt. Something professional and girlish, but not too alluring. 

If you were supposed to be visiting a strip club, you'd need something a bit more fitting. 

You couldn't recognize yourself anymore. After digging into your closet, you had pulled out a skin-tight sleeveless black dress from your college days, as well as stilettos to match. 

After fluffing up your hair, you winked at yourself, feeling like a million bucks. Forcing yourself to feel sexy and desirable eased a bit of the post break-up emotional rollercoaster. 

____________________________

It didn't take long to find the gentleman's club. All it took was a bit of sleuthing (which just meant asking around in this case). 

Maybe you should be the detective, you thought to yourself. 

This wasn't a part of town you were accustomed to. Despite it being the end of August, there was a nippy chill that swept through the air as you stepped out of your car. 

What exactly was your plan here? Become a complete stranger to yourself, walk on in, and magically find out some imperative information about the case? Let's say you did find some information. Who would you go to? 

Oh, man. If Flip ever knew you were here, he would be absolutely irate. 

Your stilettos clicked and clacked against the pavement as you approached the bouncer of the club. While you would've expected him to stop you, he didn't. Instead, he wore the creepiest grin you'd ever seen, his lips curling with clear arousal at the sight of you. 

"Come on in, sugar," he leered, his gaze falling right on your rear end as you nodded and walked in. He must've thought you were another hooker. 

As you entered, you were slammed by a cloud of alcohol fumes and cigarette smoke.

A redheaded woman wearing a two piece bikini was twirling around a pole seductively, her hips swaying to the loud music. There was a crowd of men sitting at round tables, all mesmerized by the dancer before them. 

One man in particular was outstretched on a white sofa before her, taking a drawl of a cigarette as he watched her movements. You guessed that he was the proprietor of the lot by his overly-relaxed manner alongside the expensive-looking white suit he was wearing. 

There was a bartender in the corner wiping down a glass. You sauntered over to him, seating yourself and putting on your best flirtatious expression. 

"Hiya," you said in a low tone. 

"Are you Claudia? The boss is looking for you in the back," the bartender said after looking you up and down. 

A burning sensation flooded your cheeks as he very obviously peered down at your exposed cleavage, but you simply nodded, heading towards the back room he had pointed to. 

You were now Claudia. 

You pushed open the door to the back room. It was dim — the only source of light came from an overhead lamp that dangled from the ceiling. 

"Hello...?" you called out into the darkness. 

A large man emerged from his seat in the shadows. His short hair was the color of salt and pepper. A heavy black leather jacket sat on his shoulders. His face was menacing, with a scar running from his upper left cheek to the top of his lip. 

"Claudia, is it?" His voice was rumbly as he closed in on you, grasping your chin as he examined you. "You're a fine choice. As stupid as Chuck is, he does have good taste in women."

Hearing that name made your body freeze. Chuck was there that night. The night Flip was attacked by the man who had tagged along with him. You remembered Chuck's hot breath against your neck and it made you shudder. 

You desperately wished that Flip would appear out of thin air. The only word your brain could think of was "danger." What on God's green Earth were you thinking wandering into a pit of hissing vipers?

"Don't fret, little one," a smile spread onto the man's lips as he walked around you. You began to feel like a zoo animal in a cage as he gawked at you. "You'll make a fine addition to my collection."

Your fists curled into a ball. This man had to be responsible for the death of the young girl who had been placed before you. And for the deaths of countless other innocent souls. He was responsible for the fear that had run rampant through the streets of Colorado Springs. He was responsible for the corruption and greed in the area. 

He was responsible for driving Flip Zimmerman away from you.

SMACK. 

In a bout of fury, you slammed your fist into the man's jaw with all of your might. He staggered back, clutching his face as blood spurted out of his lips. 

Your knuckles turned white-hot. You audibly winced, shaking your fingers out to relieve the pain. 

"You little bitch," he laughed at your audacity. "Any fight between us would be rather one-sided. But I like your feistiness. It's not the first time one of my girls has gotten a bit fiery."

The muscles in your shoulders tightened. 

"I know more than you think," you piped up. He cocked an eyebrow in confusion, but before he could follow-up, the door busted open. 

There Chuck was. He wheeled in another poor girl who was dressed similarly to you. She looked utterly terrified, her eyes wide like saucers. 

"Vince, that's the girl who was with the cop!"Chuck snarled, pushing the girl into you. "She ain't no Claudia. This is Claudia."

Your blood went cold. On this night, you had ignored every sense of caution that had preserved you up until this point. 

"Oh, this night keeps getting better and better," Vincent clapped his hands together, grabbing your shoulder and throwing you onto a musty mattress that was laid on the floor. "I don't like liars. What do we do with liars, Chuck?"

Chuck pushed Claudia down next to you. "They never see the light of day again."

"The police will come looking for me," you barked, your voice soaked with confidence. Were you sure of that?

The sinking fear that you'd be stuck here forever made you want to vomit. However, you didn't let any cowardice make its way into your tone. 

"You're making a sorry fucking mistake here. They will take you down and uproot this entire scheme."

Vincent bent down. His face was inches from yours, and you could smell the sour rum that corrupted his breath. 

"I'd like to see them try."


	9. Captured

____________________________  
CHAPTER NINE - CAPTURED  
____________________________  
WARNING: Violence, fluff :)  
____________________________

You didn't even know how many hours you'd been kept in the back room. 

Four? Six? Had you been here for days? All you knew was that your lips were chapped, your throat was dryer than the Sahara, and the ropes binding your wrists were digging into your skin. Ouch. 

Claudia sat beside you. Every few minutes, she'd let out a soft whimper, her small frame racked with sobs. It only strengthened your resolve. Somehow, you'd figure this out. 

"Shh, it'll be okay, Claudia," you whispered, careful not to alert the men around the corner. "It'll be alright, honey."

She couldn't have been older than sixteen. It made you want to vomit, thinking about what the vile men had planned for her...

What did they have planned for you? They knew you had been actively working against them. Flip had been right earlier — there was a target on your back as well. 

Flip. Thinking about him also sparked a newfound strength within you. One part of you was filled with anger from, uh, the fact that he dumped you, but another part held an indistinguishable hope. Somehow, you'd find your way back to each other, just like he said. 

Right?

Nevermind that. The first order of business was freeing your hands. You contorted your body so they were by your feet, and you pushed against the ropes with all of your might. Thankfully, they loosened slightly, but it still wasn't enough. 

After peering around the room, your eyes landed on a vanity mirror. If you could somehow smash it, you'd be able to use a glass shard to cut through the rope. But how on Earth would you be able to do that without making a ruckus?

Shit, shit, shit. It felt like your mind was closing in on itself, preventing any flow of thought. 

"Any ideas, Claudia?" You rasped desperately, but she shook her head rapidly. Silent tears were streaming down her cheeks. 

You huffed. But there it was; a fire alarm! If you could somehow stand up and hit the lever, it'd cause all sort of commotion, and you'd be able to smash the mirror. 

How on Earth would you even stand up to reach it? 

The hope that had grown in your stomach went out like a flimsy match. You were stuck here. When dogs are trapped in kennels and tortured, they soon give up after a few days. 

That's how you felt. Like a dog trapped in a cage. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Somehow, you were able to fall asleep by leaning your back against the wall. You awoke with a jolt after hearing a man's voice. 

Flip?

A door swung open and a man entered. But he was no Flip. 

"You asshole..." You muttered to yourself, shifting your weight to sit up better. 

Vincent's peppery-grey hair was extremely disheveled, along with his suit. 

"Oh, Miss (Y/N)..." he clicked his tongue, sauntering over to you. He reeked of stale coffee and sour rum. "Your little cop friends have been scurrying around all night, but haven't obtained a search warrant for this place yet! So lucky for you, you'll be getting a change of scenery."

"Like hell I will," you spat in his general direction, but he was unimpressed. 

"Do you think this is a fucking movie or something?" You had lit a fire under Vincent's backside. He suddenly stepped forward, slapping the back of his hand across your cheek. Hard. 

It stung like thousands of needles were prickling your face. The metallic taste of blood filled your mouth, the liquid dribbling down your chin. 

"Huh? I asked you something," he repeated louder, his voice booming. 

"Stop!" Claudia squeaked from the opposite wall. "Please."

Vincent only laughed, the sound worst than nails on chalkboard. You just felt lightheaded; you couldn't remember the last time you'd had water. 

"Nobody tells Vincent what to do," he said, starting to fade into hysterics. "Nobody. Ever. Vincent is the one who runs the business, who runs it all! All these girls make money for me! Not anybody else!"

Despite how weak you felt, you giggled. Of course this whack job would talk in third-person. However, laughing wasn't a smart idea. He struck you. Again. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You weren't the same sheepish person who dealt with your ex-fiancé's wrath. You were different now, more refined. More wise. And you weren't going to let anyone raise a hand to you ever again. 

"Hit me again, and you'll fucking regret it," your voice echoed straight from your diaphragm. You weren't sure where this sudden burst of confidence came from, but you thanked God it had arrived. 

With every ounce of strength you possessed, you forced yourself upwards. The ropes had loosened enough for you to stand up. 

Vincent seemed slightly stunned at your audacity. What could you do, a woman who was bound with rope?

The answer: whatever you had to. 

You hopped forward, slamming your body into his. It barely did anything except make him stumble back, and he simply shoved you down onto the floor. 

"Valiant effort," he hissed sarcastically. "Very entertaining."

The cold, hard floor didn't feel any better the second time around. It was moist, and dusty, and absolutely filthy. "Miserable" couldn't even begin to describe it. 

"Fuck you," you replied. "Kill me and get it over with. Stop being a coward and toying with me."

You could feel the bruises forming around your eyes and cheeks. The blood lingered on your tastebuds. 

He guffawed, pulling out a knife from the back of his pants. You scuffled backwards towards the wall. Claudia was panting in fear beside you. 

"You know what we do with girls like you?" His voice was low, and absolutely blood-curdling. "We cut your throat, like this."

He motioned the knife across his throat. His eyes were wild with psychosis. 

Your heart launched into your throat. He had just confessed to the murder of the girl. From town hall. The start of everything. 

"I b-bet it doesn't compare with what we d-do with guys like you," Claudia piped up. 

Vincent groaned dramatically. "God, you girls are much chattier than the regular stock, but trust me. We'll beat it out of you."

The door to the main bar shot open with a bang. The timing almost resembled that of a high-budget action film, where the heroic cowboy dashes in to save the damsel just before the train speeds down the tracks. 

Ron. Bridges. Flip. All three of them, piling into the room with their pistols raised. 

"Put your hands in the fucking air," Flip commanded, closing in on Vincent. Fury glistened over Flip's dark eyes. 

"What the-" Vincent started. 

"Put your hands in the air now!"

Vincent hesitated yet again, so Flip had no choice but to barrel into him like a linebacker. They wrestled for a moment, until Flip successfully pinned his chest against the dirty floor, pressing his face down. 

"Vincent Grotti, you're under arrest numerous counts of first-degree murder. You have the right to remain silent, you son of a bitch," Flip growled, allowing Ron to handcuff the perpetrator and pull him onto his feet.

"You don't have a warrant-!" Vincent exclaimed, but Flip pulled the slip of paper from his back pocket, shoving it into view. 

"It's right here, motherfucker," Flip's aggression was practically palpable. "Don't you worry."

Flip came up to you. Your ears weren't really registering the sounds in the room due to blatant shock. You watched as Bridges escorted Vincent outside, and Ron approached Claudia. 

Flip was speaking to you, concern scribbled across his features. His scent brought you home; the hints of cinnamon and the overwhelming scent of cigarettes. Your arms latched around his shoulders as your body heaved with sobs. 

"(Y/N), let's get you out of here," he said softly, gently guiding you outside. "It'll be alright."

Upon exiting the building, the sunlight hit you like a flash grenade. Here you were, your hair like a bird's nest, patches of dirt littering your skin. Flip shimmied off his thick jean jacket and draped it over your shoulders. 

Reporters had already piled outside, clamoring towards the latest scoop. The three cops swatted them away. Flip opened the passenger door of his police cruiser and guided you in. He soon sat to your left, turning the engine on and leaving the parking lot. 

The ride was silent, for the most part. He asked if you wanted a cigarette. No. He asked if you wanted music. Also no. Every so often he would look over at you with a somber expression, probably due to the purple blots under your eyes. 

"Where are we going?" Your voice croaked. 

Flip ran a hand through his dark hair and sighed. "I'm taking you back to your apartment. I'll go back for your car with Ron later."

"Oh, okay." 

You really didn't mind. Honestly, you felt like hibernating for a few weeks. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You approached the front door of your apartment, Flip right on your tail. 

"Well, I guess I should leave," he said, rocking back and forth on his heels. There was something to his tone that made it seem like he was holding a lot back. 

You exchanged a look, one filled with sorrow and regret and longing. You thought it'd be a happy moment, until Flip exploded. 

"(Y/N), what in the hell were you thinking?" He yelled, his cheeks immediately fading into a deep red color that matched his flannel top. "You walked into the viper pit, wearing that tight black dress, and you-"

"Oh, so this is my fucking fault? For wearing this?" You spat back. 

"Don't be silly! You can wear whatever the fuck you want, but clearly you weren't thinking when you just...you just... fucking stumbled right upon the gang!!" 

Yeah. You weren't. Were you vying for Flip's attention, desperate to prove yourself? Or did you truly want justice for all of the victims? 

"(Y/N), you could've fucking hurt yourself, or worse, and then where would we be? God fucking damn it, I can't even begin to fathom what—"

"I — I don't—" You were at a loss for words. He stepped closer to you, ready to yell some more, until he noticed you trembling. You even flinched at his swift movement. 

"(Y/N)... god, no, I'm not going to hurt you..." he brought you into a deep embrace instinctively, your head fitting under his chin like a lock and key. 

"C-can you come inside with me? I don't think I can be alone," you whispered into the warm skin of his neck, and you felt him nod against the top of your head. 

"I'll stay with you. I'll just have to make a few calls."

Your hands shook as you unlocked the door of your apartment. He grasped it in his hand as you entered. 

"I need to get cleaned up," you wrinkled your nose in disgust when you realized you smelled like a barnyard. 

"Do you want me to...?" 

"Yes."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
The water was warm. Not too hot, not too cold, but the perfect temperature. 

Flip had set up your portable radio on the sink counter, causing dreamy tunes to echo into the bathroom. 

Your naked back was against Flip's chest as the water streamed down your bodies. The stress unraveled within you as he massaged your shoulders with his strong hands. 

"So much for breaking up, huh?" You teased slightly, your throat still dry. That's about as humorous as you were feeling at that moment. 

"Was it a break-up? I thought it was more of a pause." He suckled a kiss into the weakest point of your neck. Wetness wasn't only flowing out of the showerhead...

"Yeah, well..."

Vincent's face flashed into your mind. What was Chief Bridges going to do with him? What would happen to Claudia? 

You let out a whimper involuntarily, your knees buckling. Luckily, Flip grasped you in his arms. He brushed your wet hair to the side. 

"Shhh... it's alright. You're with me now. Nobody's going to hurt you," his deep voice rolled off his tongue in waves, each vibration soothing your soul. He turned you to face him, his face still riddled with fury at the sight of your bruises. 

He raised your hands up to his lips, peppering soft kisses over your knuckles. Seeing him with his hair all wet and slicked back stirred a primal reaction within you, but right now, you were just happy to be home. Safe. With him. Sex wasn't on your mind currently. 

"I'll kill him, (Y/N). I swear." His words had an edge to them, like the serrated blade of a knife. You believed him. Had Flip not been bound by the law, you know what he'd do. 

"I'm just glad I'm here, with you," you mumbled. "He'll get what's coming to him."

Just as he pressed his lips into yours, the telephone rang from the other room. 

And you woke up. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
"Why are you calling at this hour?" Vincent spat into the receiver. Whoever was calling him clearly wasn't happy, either. They wanted something from him. 

Your head felt like it weighed one hundred pounds. Claudia was asleep to your right. Aching pains radiated throughout your body — you'd be contorted like a Bavarian pretzel as you slept. 

No no NO!!! You screamed internally, desperate for the sense of peace and security you had during that dream. 

"Oh, you cocksucker... you'd really throw me under the bus? When you're... yeah. Yeah, that's smart. Maybe we shouldn't fucking talk like this on the phone. Yeah. See you then."

You'd let out a slight groan as your weight shifted, thinking it was quiet, but Vincent slowly turned around to face you. 

"Oh, good morning, princess. Well, it's two in the morning, but oh well. The boys will be here around nine to pick you both up," he checked his watch to verify. At this point, all hope felt lost, and tears erupted from your eyes. 

"Tsk tsk tsk," he cooed in his own twisted way, kneeling before you as you wept. "None of that, precious. Keep making that noise and I'll cut your tongue out."

You pursed your lips together to silence yourself, but all you wanted to do was take his knife and peel off every inch of his skin. How did you know that he actually had a knife, though? Was that your dream or reality? 

Acid heaved up your throat, causing you to vomit beside yourself. 

"You poor animal," Vincent laughed cruelly. 

He exited the room, leaving you and Claudia to yourselves. 

God, please, Flip...


End file.
